


girls have claws and teeth

by eightsock



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blasphemy, Blow Jobs, Brainwashing, Conditioning, Crying, Cunnilingus, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, FE3H Kinkmeme, Hand Feeding, Humiliation, Making Out, Manipulation, Mild D/s, Mind Control, Monsterfucking, Size Difference, Trust Issues, also Marianne/Balthus, pretty dark Hapi, references to past abuse/non-con, which is not the focus but explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24972022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eightsock/pseuds/eightsock
Summary: Hapi is the best friend Marianne's ever had.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hapi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 62
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	girls have claws and teeth

**Author's Note:**

> For the kink meme, "Either Marianne showing up when Hapi sighs by accident and engaging in some non-con or barely-con monsterfucking, or Hapi controlling Marianne through her crest somehow." Went with the latter.

Marianne didn’t know Hapi very well before the war began - she didn’t know any of the citizens of Abyss, which seems like a terrible moral failing on her part - but she’s gotten to know her a lot better since. There was all that gossip about how dangerous she was, and there are still whispers, but that’s obvious nonsense. After all, Marianne knows what it’s like to have that thrown at you; she can only wish she could shrug it off the way Hapi apparently had. 

Hapi’s been kind to her, and very helpful in their magic seminars. It’s pretty frequent that when Professor Byleth or Manuela or Hanneman is droning on about something, Hapi will catch her eyes and grin indulgently.  _ That was soooo pointless _ , Marianne can hear her saying after class. Hapi’s so casual, so friendly with everybody, and Marianne can’t understand why she pays her any attention at all. But she, Goddess bless, does. 

Today they’re both on the floor of Marianne’s room, studying spellcast velocity. It’s for the best in case of any future battles. “I’m gonna be a crappy medic,” Hapi bites out. “I can’t do these healing spells like you can, Mari.” 

She twirls her fingers in the air. Her wristwork’s not entirely correct; she lacks the sweeping grace needed in healing spells. 

“And I can’t do Reason spells like you can.” Marianne can do them fine, stop her enemies in their tracks in battle, but she doesn’t  _ feel  _ them like Hapi does. The electricity jolts out of her fingers, and it’s gone, and all she thinks about is how to ready herself for the next battle. Hapi, on the other hand, gets tremors in her hands and arms for hours afterward; she ends up limping to healers like Marianne.

Hapi flops back on the bed. “Yeah, well,” she says, “I wish you could teach me Faith spells and I could teach you the Reason ones.”

Marainne must not have taught her very well. A deep sense of shame sweeps through her at that. She tries to avoid those dark pits these days, and she’s gotten better at that, but they never truly go away. “I’ll show you,” she says, and moves onto the bed next to Hapi. She  _ must  _ do this. Hapi makes a surprised noise, but doesn’t stop her, when Marianne takes hold of her wrist. 

Marianne guides Hapi’s hands through the air. She carefully steers her wrist, so that she has the smooth glide through the air she needs for the best possible casts of Heal and Physic. Her skin is warm and golden, lovely to look at. Though not as lovely as the  _ perfect  _ white mists that seep out of her fingertips after the motion.

“Huh!” Hapi tries it again, and it still works perfectly. Marianne isn’t injured, obviously, but the Physic spell washes over her like a refreshing, cool rain on a hot day. It’s wonderful. Much like Hapi herself. “That was - wow, thanks Mari. I never could have gotten it on my own. You really helped.”

“Oh, I didn’t do much,” Marianne says. She suddenly notices that - goodness, she’s certainly close to Hapi on the bed, isn’t she? But Hapi is such a good friend, she doesn’t mind.

“You have to be more confident,” Hapi tells her, meeting her eyes with such an intensity that Marianne nearly pulls her gaze away. But - Hapi told her to be more confident. So that’s what she will do. She keeps her eyes right on Hapi’s. “Uh, Mari?”

“What?” Marianne allows herself to laugh. It’s never going to be anything like Hilda’s cackle, the kind that rings out through the whole courtyard, but it’s the loudest and most forward laugh she’s ever heard coming from herself. “You told me I have to be more confident.”

There’s something strange in Hapi’s eyes. The light there is sharp, and it gleams. “Okay,” Hapi says. Then, very slowly, nearly low as a whisper, she adds, “Act like one of your horses?” 

Hapi bites her lip and wrenches her gaze away like she’s embarrassed. Like she’s done something bad, almost? Marianne can’t imagine what as she moves off the bed, crouches down on all fours, and attempts her best to run around the room like that. It should make her arms and legs ache, probably, or at least feel so ungainly with her long skirts. But all objections have puffed away like smoke plumes from failed magical experiments.

She whinnies and Hapi laughs until her body shakes with it. She smacks the bedsheets, the motion barely controlled. Marianne isn’t quite sure what’s so funny about doing exactly what was asked of her, but she has to bite back her smile at how she’s entertained Hapi. 

Hapi is such a great friend. And Marianne does love to make her friends happy.

  
  
  


~~

  
  
  


“Aw, crap,” Hapi says to her, some time a few days later. “I really don’t feel like going to seminar today.” She gnaws on her lip, looks down at her fingers. “Can you go for me? And take notes?”

Marianne isn’t sure why, but she puts a hand on Hapi’s arm. Perhaps it’s the comfort she can find this close to her. The past couple of nights, she’s spent them sleeping in Hapi’s room in Abyss, not her own. It makes much more sense when she’s spending so much time with Hapi.

“Of course.” Now Hapi’s line of sight is on Marianne’s hand. She doesn’t look away, and it makes Marianne’s cheeks heat, so Marianne finally moves her hands away after what must be a full minute and hurries off to the magic seminar.

Marianne has never been very organized or good at taking notes. But now it  _ matters _ . Her hands move frantically to scrawl notes all across her papers, until her fingers and wrists ache. She catches Professor Manuela eyeing her with raised eyebrows, and normally she’d shrink back in her seat, but no. She can’t now. This is too important. She keeps writing, and practically skips back down to Abyss after the session’s finished.

“Oh, this is such a big help,” Hapi says when Marianne hands her the stack of notes, gleefully. The praise makes Marianne smile too. “Thanks. Seriously. I mean, don’t know how much of a choice you had in the matter, but hey.”

Of course Marianne had no choice. Hapi is her friend, her best friend now, probably the best friend she’s ever had. She’d do whatever she said. 

  
  
  


~~

  
  
  


Most nights now, Marianne curls up in the bed opposite Hapi’s. Hapi had nudged her and asked if she liked this more than her bed upstairs, and Marianne had found herself nodding in approval. She doesn’t even mind the stiff sheets, and she’s come to like the coolness of the night owing to the fact that they’re underground.

“Hey,” Hapi says, right before she snuffs out the candles in the room for the night. The line of her sight roves over Marianne’s cheekbones and her slim neck; Marianne somehow flushes and shivers simultaneously. “Don’t you wanna stay down here, like, for good? Move into this room with me? It’s gotta be better than up there, yeah?”

It hadn’t occurred to Marianne. But now she’s glad she doesn’t have to ask. “Yes!” she exclaims, then shrinks down into bed at her own enthusiasm.  _ No _ , Hapi said she needed to be more confident, so she pulls herself up and meets Hapi’s eyes. “Yes. I do.” 

“Good. I’m glad.” Hapi’s smile is the last thing Marianne sees before she puts out the light. Marianne doesn’t think any dream she could have would be lovelier. 

  
  
  


~~

  
  
  


There’s one negative to staying in Hapi’s room, and it’s that she’s such a mess. As far as Marianne can tell, she never cleans in any way. Not even so much as picking up after herself. Clothes are strewn across and about the floor, the desks, both their beds, and every spare chair. Everywhere, really. Quite a few times, Marianne has caught Hapi pulling a dress off the floor and slipping it on again.

That’s why it’s such a relief when Hapi finally asks her, “Hey, could you maybe help me clean up around here?” The words are barely out of Hapi’s mouth when Marianne’s plucked up a skirt from the floor, folded it, and placed it neatly on a shelf.

“I hope that’s okay,” Marianne says, as she gets to work on a long scarf. 

“I mean, you’re not much better at cleaning than I am,” Hapi says, and Marianne cannot argue with the truth. She had read  _ books  _ on this, to no avail. “But you  _ are  _ better.”

“I don’t hate cleaning for my friends,” Marianne insists.

Hapi smiles, and it makes the idea of cleaning very worth it. “Of course you don’t,” she says, lying back on her bed. Her dress drapes so luxuriously over her thighs. “Get to it, if it’s that much fun.” 

Marianne cleans like she never has before. After she’s done picking up and folding all of Hapi’s clothes, she sweeps and scrubs, then cleans over the same spots just to make sure she did a perfect job. Tendrils of her hair spring loose and hang into her eyes, but she doesn’t care. Sweat beads on her forehead and makes her neck damp, which she’d normally hate, but it is all worth it to hear Hapi’s little  _ good job _ s. 

It’s unacceptably dusty underneath Marianne’s bed. She thrills to think of it as  _ hers _ , but doesn’t waste much time before she crouches down on her hands and knees best she can and swipes at the corners, clearing out the gray haze there. This kind of determination feels good, like she’s accomplishing something. Hapi always acts like Marianne is doing her all sorts of favors, but really, she’s the one giving confidence and purpose to Marianne.

“Alright,” Hapi announces after several minutes have passed. Marianne’s pretty sure the corners of the room don’t need any more scrubbing, but it can’t  _ hurt _ . “Let’s make this a little more fun. Ass in the air, Mari.” 

Marianne isn’t sure what this has to do with cleaning, though that doesn’t matter. She’s sunk to her stomach by now, but she rears up now on her hands and knees to scrub - and sticks her behind up in the air, as far as it will go. The position makes it somewhat difficult to clean the best she can, but Hapi said this was what she wanted. She’d probably know better than Marianne would.

After a few moments, Hapi says, “Huh.” She sounds so thoughtful, though Marianne can’t imagine why. “Not bad at all.”

  
  
  


~~

  
  
  


Marianne does still go to seminar. She takes double the notes now, because she isn’t sure what Hapi wants to focus on in their study sessions, and she always ends up shaking her hands out while she diligently takes notes because it starts to  _ hurt _ . 

That doesn’t matter, though, because it all seems worth it when she gets back to Hapi’s room, delivers the notes, and is rewarded by Hapi loosening her hair from its tight braiding and running her fingers through it. Marianne, embarrassingly, purrs at the shivers Hapi’s strokes put through her body; she moans and sighs in happiness when Hapi’s fingernails dig in and there’s that bite of sweet pain, but Hapi thankfully never comments.

Today, she brings over Hapi’s notes as usual to find the other mage lying on her bed. She’s moved a small table over to her side, and there’s a big bowl on the table. Marianne knows Hapi loves her, and just the thought of it thrills her every inch, but Hapi loves little more than snacks. 

“Thanks,” Hapi says, rifling through the notes. “You know, I’m starting to see why that woman… ah, nevermind. This is really helpful.” 

She tosses the notes off the side of the bed - Marianne has a moment of wondering why she did that, when she’d wanted them so badly - and reaches over to pick up a glazed fruit on her side table. She shoves a couple in her mouth at once, and Marianne wants to be disgusted by the wet slurping noises she makes while she gobbles them down, but she simply is not. She’s too preoccupied with Hapi’s lips. “You want some?” Hapi’s holding a few jewel-colored fruits out to her; her palm is shiny with her own spit.

“Oh, no thank you.” 

“C’mon.” Hapi sits up. Her clothes are bunching up around her hips in odd ways, the fabric draping over her legs and making their form obvious. “Try one. A few.” 

If Hapi insists. Marianne steps forward. She reaches out to take one, but Hapi goes  _ ah-ah  _ and pats the edge of the bed. For a minute, Marianne isn’t sure what she means by it, but she finds herself sinking to her knees. It’s not even uncomfortable with the length of her dress.

“Take this,” Hapi says. Her voice is quiet and tight, like she’s telling a secret. Marianne’s confused, because there’s no secrets here. 

But before she even has the opportunity to ask, Hapi pushes a candy against her lips. Marianne eagerly opens up and swallows it down. The sugar dissolves on her tongue, and it’s only when the sweetness fades away to salt that she realizes Hapi has her pointer finger pressed inside her mouth too.

Well, it tastes good. So she might as well run her tongue over that as well.

“Ah,” is all Hapi says, before withdrawing her hand.

  
  
  


~~

  
  
  


Marianne stops going to the dining hall not very long after that. Hapi suggested they eat together, and it was a wonderful suggestion. Hapi was right as usual. Always? Marianne isn’t sure she’s ever been wrong, or done anything wrong. It seems impossible one person could be so perfect, even if she keeps her room very messy.

Hapi’s so helpful too. “I know you’re so tired, Mari, I kept you busy,” she acknowledges, holding a fork up so Marianne can take a bite from it. Sometimes she doesn’t bother with the fork, but holds the food out with her fingers again instead. Food tastes better when it’s flavored with Marianne’s tongue against Hapi’s skin. 

Hapi keeps trying ways to make their meals easier, and more companionable. She offers the food up on her palm, and scritches her fingers in the soft hairs at the back of Marianne’s neck while she frantically gobbles it down. Marianne wonders how this could possibly make her feel so soothed and high-strung at the same time. 

Another day, Marianne finds herself sighing, “Oh, this chocolate pudding was so good.” Her spoon clatters around the empty bowl. “I wish there was more.” 

Hapi twirls her own spoon around the bowl she’s holding, too. “I have more,” she says, keeping her eyes on the bowl for a few beats more. Marianne’s about to ask her what’s wrong, why she’s hesitating, when Hapi pokes her tongue out of her mouth. “It’s here,” she adds, letting her tongue out all the way. 

Marianne doesn’t let herself think before she closes her lips around Hapi’s tongue. There’s a hint of sweetness there, but mostly it’s just wet. The taste doesn’t matter, though, because Marianne cannot stop screaming in her head about how she has Hapi’s tongue  _ inside her mouth _ . 

“You gotta taste it deeper,” Hapi says when they break apart. “There’s more of it there.” She’s still smiling, as ever, so that’s - good. It’s good. Marianne hasn’t broken this friendship apart.

Or perhaps it’s  _ bad _ . The worst possible situation, even. Hapi must be so inexperienced in the ways of the world, even more inexperienced than Marianne’s maidenhood, enough that she doesn’t understand something as simple as kissing. She’s innocent as a child, she doesn’t know what she’s doing, and Marianne has reaped this wonderful reward from it while leaving her entirely unaware.

Marianne does open her mouth to object. She does. But before she can say anything, Hapi’s lips are on hers, and she pushes their tongues together, and that is that.

Hapi grips her cheeks with a force. Even if Marianne truly, truly wanted to break apart from her, she’s not sure she could. The pudding must taste especially delicious in Marianne’s mouth, because it’s like Hapi can’t get enough. Her tongue swipes inside, over and over, apparently as desperate to chase the taste as she is to gobble snacks. 

Marianne knows she shouldn’t, knows she shouldn’t, knows she shouldn’t, but she kisses back. Hard. She’s licked the taste out of Hapi by now, but it feels so good to share their very breaths. She’s starving for something that has nothing to do with food. She’d only furtively touched herself a few times, but it was nothing like now, this incendiary throbbing. Her tongue touches Hapi’s and she wishes both of them were kissing… other places. 

It’s the least Marianne can do to let Hapi control their movements. She lets herself get shoved down onto the bed, her arms pinned above her head. “Just wanna - taste some more -” Hapi gasps out, before her tongue is rolling over Marianne’s again. 

She’s blazing hot and unyielding, but her lips are soft. Their bodies press together and the touching makes Marianne shiver, and also wish very badly that they were each missing a few more layers of clothes to feel skin rubbing skin. Hapi is so easy to kiss, and guilt along with arousal seeps through Marianne as she gives in -

And then Hapi breaks away. Their mouths make a very wet noise as they separate.

“Tasted good, yeah?” Hapi asks. Marianne’s cheeks flare red, and all she can do is nod.

She thought Hapi gave her a new boldness in life. But she made her a coward where it matters the most.

  
  
  


~~~

  
  
  


They’re finishing up a meal one day, Hapi licking away the crumbs at the side of Marianne’s mouth, when she says, “Oh hey. I got some new clothes for you. I think you’re gonna like them.” 

“I know I’m going to like them.”

There’s a sharp curve to Hapi’s smile when she pulls away. “I bet.” 

She lays them out on the bed in front of Marianne, who takes a moment to look at them. The top Hapi picked out for her is a simple white button-up shirt like the academy-regulation ones, only it’s much thinner. Marianne runs her fingertips over it; the fabric is so thin she’s afraid it will tear due to that alone. 

The black skirt, with its gold whorls across the waistband, is very short. Its edge will certainly land well above her knees. The Marianne of the past would have surely refused to wear it. She’s very much changed as a person that it seems so much more appealing to her now than the fussy old skirts she’s been wearing. It’s a puzzle why she wasn’t wearing something like this all along.

“You can change in here. Don’t mind me, I’ll just turn around.” And Hapi does so. 

Marianne strips out of her old clothing as quickly as she can and lets it land with a soft thump to the floor. How had she ever worn so much fabric? It’s no more than garbage to her. She kicks it, practically offensive to her at this point, away. 

As she wriggles into the top - it’s tight around her waist and breasts, and she’s being so careful not to rip it - she takes notice of Hapi’s back. Marianne can’t help it, it must be the proximity, but she’s wishing Hapi would turn around and  _ watch  _ her put on her new clothes for the first time. See her skin. She’s imagining what Hapi’s legs, long and lean like the curve of her back, would look like in the skirt.

Marianne tries to push the thought out of her mind. There’s so little fabric to her new clothes, and she’s so warmed by the image of Hapi’s bare legs in a short skirt, her breasts straining the top, that she worries she’ll make them catch flame. But the thought has lodged its way inside Marianne, stubborn as Hapi herself. 

Oh well, she thinks, smoothing the skirt down best she can. If there’s anything she’s learned recently, it’s that new, unexpected thoughts aren’t bad. Her imagination is so much more vibrant than she ever gave herself credit for. 

“Alright,” Marianne says, when she’s all done. Her voice sounds nicely even. Her thoughts might not be bad, but surely it’s wrong to start thinking with any sort of longing for a friend like Hapi when you’re half-naked in a room with her and she has no idea. She is still taking advantage.

Hapi only whistles when she turns around, though. “Wow. Mari, you look amazing like this.” She stands up and cups Marianne’s hips, then pats over her sides. The movement is gentle and comforting, and almost reminds Marianne of caring for her horses. 

Then Hapi runs her palms over Marianne’s calves and high up her thighs. The movement is fast, but it’s enough for Marianne to register the sensation. A spike of panic hits Marianne head-dizzyingly fast; she’s so afraid that her friend was so generous to give her these wonderful new clothes, and she’s going to ruin them by her pulse kicking up so fast it actually tears through them. 

But Hapi’s hands move away to return to her hips and the moment passes, though Marianne still feels her heartbeat pounding in her throat.

Hapi gnaws on her lip. “Needs one little change, though.” Her fingers undo a few buttons on the shirt. Marianne didn’t even know she  _ had  _ this much skin to show off. “Aw, shit. This won’t do.”

“What?” 

“Your bra.” Hapi runs a finger along its very visible edge. “Probably your smallclothes too. Don’t bother with this old fussy stuff, it’s super boring, right?”

“Of course.” 

Hapi smiles and moves over to her cabinet. It’s now much more organized, but she still grunts in frustration as she digs around a drawer. “A- _ ha _ ,” she finally blares triumphantly, holding up some bits of fabric. They’re the same shade of pinkish-red as her hair, and that makes Marianne flush to match. “Here. I’ll turn around again.” 

So Marianne has to get out of her clothes again, to slip the new smallclothes on. They’re certainly not what she’s used to, because they’re incredibly tiny. She doesn’t have Hapi’s bust, but she’s still afraid she’ll spill over the top of the bra if she moved too much.

The smallclothes have a strange texture, patterned in some places and near-sheer in others. They remind her of the tights Professor Byleth wears on her legs. She puts them on and feels unbelievably  _ aware  _ of where they rub against her body. 

Marianne hurries back into her new clothes, then says, “Alright.” Hapi turns around, and Marianne is suddenly quite aware of just how much her bra shows through her shirt. How much the new bra rubbing against her breasts has made her nipples rise to pebbly peaks.

“Gotta check out the fit, yeah?” Hapi asks, patting down Marianne’s sides again. Goosebumps plump up on Marianne’s skin, and her clothes are so thin Hapi must be able to feel them, but she nods anyway. “Great.”

Her hands smooth over Marianne’s back. Like before, she runs her hands over the edge of her bra, but now, her fingers slip inside to push against the flesh of her breasts. “Oh…” Marianne whispers, when she grazes a nipple.

“Is it uncomfortable?” Hapi’s face is scrunched up, as if she’s trying to hold back a laugh. 

“No. It’s fine. Keep going.” 

“Great.” Hapi moves her hands away from Marianne’s bra, and Marianne is both relieved to see it apparently fit well, and aching to get those hands back on her. 

Then, Hapi pushes Marianne’s skirt up - not like there’s much to move - and reaches her hand into Marianne’s new underwear. Hapi’s fingers drift over her entrance and she fights the urge to buck into them. 

Then Hapi plunges one finger inside, pushing up high, crooking the digit up against an incredibly sensitive place inside her. Goddess, Marianne never felt this good touching herself. She widens her knees, trying so hard not to topple over but so ready for Hapi to keep doing this to her, because this was it, Marianne’s furtive fantasies coming to lurid life - 

Hapi’s finger withdraws. Marianne tries to push her legs back together fast, desperate to clamp Hapi’s hand there, but she slides it out anyway. “Yeah, fit’s pretty good,” she says. Of course. That’s all Hapi had been testing, after all.

“Fit’s amazing,” Marianne sighs. She’s terrible, she’s the worst friend, but she’s thinking of Hapi’s finger slotting into her hole.

Hapi smiles. There’s a gleam in her eye that Marianne tries not to read into. Reading too much into situations is how she ended up thinking Hapi meant anything other than checking the fit of her new clothes - which was very considerate of her, and yet Marianne still took advantage. “Okay. I know you haven’t gone to class in a few days, whoops, my bad. I don’t wanna be like that woman - agh - anyway, you gotta get out sometimes. Go to seminar tomorrow, wearing exactly this. And Mari? Be the  _ ferocious _ girl I know you are.” 

Marianne just nods. She’d like to stay here in the room, of course, maybe find some way to continue what they were doing. But Hapi isn’t going to steer her wrong.

  
  
  


~~

  
  
  


Marianne walks into class the next day and instantly knows every eye is on her. Professor Byleth herself even stutters through parts of the lesson, which makes Marianne smother a laugh behind her palm considering what  _ she’s  _ wearing. 

Hapi believed in her, so Marianne will show her just how well-placed her faith was. She stretches her legs out, long, in her chair. She leans forward until her breasts strain the seams of the shirt; she can pretend hers are as big as Hapi’s like this. 

“Wow,” she hears a voice murmur behind her. She arches her back in return as if the voice attached a tether. 

In the past, Marianne would have cringed away from any attention she got. But she refuses to be that girl any more. It’s laughable that she ever felt embarrassed by anyone so much as looking at her. After all, if no one ever looked at her, she never would have met Hapi, who got her to be who she is today. Surely that’s worth  _ absorbing  _ all the attention, gathering it into her even. 

Byleth keeps getting so flustered and distracted she makes them stay late in class. Marianne doesn’t mind, not when it means more minutes of people’s hot gazes roving over her body. She is the reason everyone’s going to be late to the next duty they have, she is what they will be thinking about when they’re doing it, and she loves to admit how much she loves it. All she’ll be thinking about is Hapi, her own personal secret.

  
  
  


~~

  
  
  


“You’ve been kinda going to those boring classes a lot for me, and I appreciate it,” Hapi says, some time the next week. “I have an idea for some fun.”

“Mmm-hmm?” Marianne poses it like a question, but she has no problems with any of Hapi’s suggestions. Her ideas are just so consistently wonderful. 

Hapi tugs Marianne to her feet. “Yeah, c’mon. I don’t think you’ve met any of my other friends, and that’s so rude of me. Guess I’ve been a pretty naughty girl, you know? Heh.” 

Before Marianne can ask why Hapi was laughing, they’re out of the room and walking down the hallway. Marianne notices the darkness, the cold, much less, when she has Hapi to fixate on. She’s so guilty but she can’t stop. She imagines just how much Hapi would laugh at her if she told her the truth: that Hapi’s become her entire world.

Hapi herds Marianne into another room down the hallway. A mountain of a man with wild dark hair sits at a desk inside, but he swings the chair around when the two of them walk in. “Hello… ladies?” he greets. His eyebrows have something of a natural tilt to them, but they bounce into his hairline when he takes in both of them. 

“B, this is Mari. Remember, I told you about her? The healer, the one who’s really good with horses? My new friend. She’s  _ very  _ cool.” In the past, Marianne would have ducked her head at the praise. Now, she just keeps herself focused on the man in front of her, even as her whole body feels warm from Hapi’s words. “Mari, meet Balthus. You might have even heard of him, calls himself Grappling King of Leicester?”

“Hey, that’s the  _ Undisputed  _ Grappling King of Leicester,” Balthus says - his voice fits his imposing figure - as he shakes Marianne’s hand. Well, more like crushes her hand with his fingers, but she doesn’t mind. 

Hapi steps away from Marianne and Balthus. Part of Marianne wants to reach out and tell her to stay, but she resists. She’s come a long way from being completely pathetic. “I’ll leave you to it. And Marianne?”

“Yeah?”

A sharp grin flashes across Hapi’s face. “Don’t you  _ dare  _ come,” she orders, and then she’s gone.

“Hapi talks a lot about you,” Balthus says once the door shuts. “Like yeah, this isn’t about her, but damn. Never doubt that she  _ really  _ enjoys her time with you, because she does.”

“I certainly enjoy my time with her,” Marianne says, which is both the truth and an understatement as enormous as the sky and all the land at once.

Balthus backs the two of them up. It’s so easy to simply follow his lead. “Then seeing what you ladies talked about… I don’t see any more need for small talk, yeah?” 

Marianne has no time to ask what he’s talking about before she’s slammed against the wall, her jaw pried open and Balthus’ tongue plundering her mouth. Yes, she’s kissed Hapi before, but she still feels horrible about that because she’s taking so much advantage. This is her first kiss with any sort of intent behind it. 

Hapi kissing her is like a whisper in her ear; it’s slow and shivery and the sensation of it moves over her whole body. Balthus kissing her is a full  _ scream _ .

His hand slaps her thigh. Not hard, but she still lets out a sharp puff of air into his mouth at the contact. Going on instinct, instinct she would have never guessed she had, she hitches her legs up around his waist and lets him control the kiss entirely. 

Her skirt is shoved up to her waist. He’s so hard, she can feel it against her center even through the layers of fabric. It makes her throb between her legs; the sensation is outrageously good. She’s only ever felt it before in her kisses with Hapi, and those made her so guilty it added other layers to the feeling.

Balthus moves so fast, and controls their movements so well, she doesn’t know how she finds herself on the floor, on her knees, in the next instant. She’s looking up at Balthus, who looks even more gigantic from this angle. Her eyes rove over his muscles and his bulk, and she watches the flex of his arms as he - oh -

He fiddles with his pants, then pulls them down. Marianne tries not to gawk at his cock. She’s completely inexperienced and he’s - just as big there as he is elsewhere. 

She’s never done this. She’s never done this! Nerves and a silly little thrill seep through her whole body.

“Hapi said you told her you were super good at this,” Balthus says, nudging his erection against the seam of her lips. She opens them, flush with the praise even through a secondary source. Even if she’s momentarily… confused, as she’s certain she’s never done this before. But Hapi simply isn’t wrong. And she certainly can’t let her down. 

Fitting her mouth around the head alone makes Marianne’s mouth feel helplessly swollen. There’s a twinge in her jaw already. But when she narrows her cheeks and moves her tongue against Balthus’ shaft, she’s rewarded with a groan loud enough that she feels it in her teeth. The fluid coming out of the head of his cock isn’t pleasant, but it’s worth it for moments like that. 

Marianne rears up, grips the base of Balthus’ dick - her hand looks so small and delicate against his deep red erection - and moves up best she can, until her lips are almost touching her hand. “Oh, yeah,” he mutters, his hands running slipshod over her face and ears and neck. She can barely pay attention to his touch with his cock so far in her mouth, her terror that she might gag and the thudding through her whole body at vicious war with one another. “That’s it. Hapi was so right. Heh.” 

She’s not sure what she’s doing right. But so far she hasn’t done anything wrong. So she keeps at it. The very mention of Hapi has spurred her on. She can imagine herself on her knees for Hapi, her jaw aching for Hapi, saliva all over her face for Hapi, Hapi telling her  _ that’s it  _ in a low purr that she could feel between her own legs -

“Hells, Marianne,” Balthus chokes out, moving away from her. “That was pretty perfect. But we’re not even at the main event yet.”

Marianne stops short of asking what  _ the main event  _ is, thank the Goddess. She may be a maiden, though that seems to have precious few moments remaining, but she can still taste his cock in her mouth. So she pulls her shirt off, hastens out of her skirt and underclothes. She’s so thankful Hapi provided her with the appropriate wear, not something heavy and fussy where she would have lost her nerve before getting all of it off. It’s perhaps a bit embarrassing to be caught naked under the full light like this, but judging by Balthus’ gaze at her, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.

She lets him kiss her again, his hands dragging all over her body. He takes up so much  _ space  _ compared to her. A moan escapes her mouth when he cups her breasts in his massive palms, and then when he - oh, Goddess - when a finger starts working her between her legs. Her knees go wobbly and she pushes against him; she can feel his wetness against hers. 

“On the bed, now,” he growls into her ear, then bites the lobe, and she’s so happy to be told what to do. She doesn’t have to think, she just moves. 

He’s on her in two steps, stroking himself as he does so. His mass pushes her down onto the bed and she’s exhilarated to go. An airy moan punches out of her chest as they maneuver until he’s pressing against her entrance. There are a few rubs there, once, twice, three times, and then she feels her hole stretch to take him all the way in. 

“ _ Oh _ !” she yelps, as he fully seats himself inside her. She has no idea - how can he even fit? But he does. Then he pulls back. Pushes in again. Every thrust makes her nerves sing in delight even as she huffs out deep breaths to get herself used to the sensation. 

She can’t stop being in this moment, Balthus so mammoth and hot above her. And she can’t stop thinking about what if it was  _ Hapi _ busy between her legs, flicking her clit with every pass, and making her feel this incredible.

“You’re so  _ tight _ ,” Balthus marvels. He hitches her leg over his shoulder, and she feels the ache in her thigh, but it barely matters. Everything about him is large enough to make her strain and stretch to meet him, but she does so happily.

He fucks her so hard she’s sure she’ll bear marks tomorrow. Marianne feels herself cresting and - and - focuses, and brings the wave down to a low boil. Good. That’s good.  _ Hapi said don’t come. _

_ Hapi said don’t come. _

_ Hapi said don’t come. _

_ Hapi! Said! Don’t! Come! _

“Wow,” Balthus says to her. “Wouldn’t have guessed Hapi was into the super submissive type. I mean, from the way she talked about you, maybe I  _ should  _ have. It’s hot as hell though.”

Marianne starts to let out a soft noise of acknowledgement, but even that hurts her throat. She didn’t realize she’d been screaming those words.

“It’s okay, girlie,” Balthus pants into her ear, as he never stops thrusting, “I’m having my fun. Then I won’t touch you after.” His breath is so  _ hot _ .

Marianne is - frustrated? Yes. She’s frustrated, she thinks, as Balthus’ big cock pushes against her clit again. She can’t take much more of that pressure flipping over to pleasure. But she’s also doing exactly what Hapi told her to do. Thinking of being a good girl for Hapi is so much better than any silly climax. She lets her head fall back onto the pillow and moans.

This was never an artful coupling, Marianne could tell even with the lack of experience she has - she’s read plenty of books that would make anyone blush - but Balthus has lost all sense of rhythm. The bedframe clatters against the wall so hard Marianne is distantly worried, somewhere in her hazy mind, that it might splinter to bits. He doesn’t so much thrust as shove into her. 

Only a few more  _ shoves  _ pass before he groans loud enough to rattle Marianne from scalp to heels, and then he’s gushing inside her. There’s so much of it, it goes on for so long, and she can’t go anywhere with his meaty palms clamped down on her wrists and his waist shoved into the space vacated by her open legs. 

When he pulls out, Marianne actually feels her opening twitch hard at the loss. Perhaps Balthus isn’t the only greedy one. She’s swollen and gaping open at once, and the evidence of what they did drips slowly out of her to pool on the bedsheets. 

“As awesome as expected,” Balthus announces several moments later. Marianne’s still stunned into silence, shivering uselessly on the bed. 

Some time later - it could be minutes, it could be hours - Balthus pulls on his pants and tells her he’s going out to train. “Hapi said you’d wanna stick around here,” he says. “Stay as long as you like.” And he closes the door and Marianne is alone, with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company. And those thoughts keep circling around one person.

She feels used.

And that feels -  _ amazing _ .

  
  
  


~~~

  
  
  


Balthus isn’t back when Marianne wakes up, which she doesn’t mind. Hapi isn’t in her room, which she  _ does _ . Marianne paces the hallway. She’s grown past her anxiety for the most part, but she - misses her. It’s the longest they’ve been apart in a while.

“Marianne!” Hapi’s rushing down the hallway from the other end.

It’s so beyond foolish of her, but at the sound of Hapi’s voice, her heart rate kicks up. Her cheeks crimson. She remembers how Balthus fucked her into dazed dulcet compliance, enough that she feels the ache in her thighs and back even now, and all she could think about was Hapi.

“It’s really good to see you,” Hapi says, touching Marianne’s shoulders. “C’mon.” She ushers her back into her - their! - room.

“So,” Hapi says, at last. She untwirls the scarf from her top half and Marianne tries not to look, she really does. There’s just so much flesh revealed, it demands her gaze. “You have fun with Balthus?”

“Oh. Yes, I did.” 

Hapi’s grin is wide. It warms Marianne everywhere, on her outside and every nook and cranny of her body too. She sits on her bed, back to the wall. “Was it… good?”

“Um.” Marianne speaks the truth. “It was amazing.” 

Hapi claps her hands together once. “I’m so happy! I mean, duh. I’m thrilled, I should say. I can’t believe you did that for me! Heh, not that you had a - aw, forget it. Get here in my lap and tell me all about it, Mari.” 

The only way to make her memories of her and Balthus together even better, Marianne figures, is by involving Hapi in some way. So she moves to the bed as quickly as possible, and props herself in Hapi’s lap, her back to Hapi’s front. They are both very warm, but it’s not uncomfortable. 

Marianne starts with the most obvious. “It felt good.”

“Yeah?” Hapi carefully undoes her hairdo, and strokes her fingers along the back of Marianne’s neck. Marianne’s body is heating all the more, but she can’t stop shivering. “Tell me more. I want  _ every  _ detail.” 

“H-he kissed me so hard,” Marianne gets out after a few beats. “It was really… forceful? I mean he didn’t  _ make  _ me do anything, no one  _ made  _ me do anything - oh -”

Hapi’s hand has wandered down and is now undoing the straining buttons in the front of her blouse. “Don’t worry about me,” she says, “we’re just gonna have some fun together, okay? Keep telling me about all the fun you and B had.”

“Lots of fun,” Marianne says, sounding very far away even to her own ears. It must be the way Hapi peels her shirt off her shoulders and cups her breasts. Her palms are smooth against her nipples, gentle even when Marianne feels a pinch. “Anyway. Right. I - um - he did what you’re doing now. He put his hands all over me. Th-they were big. And everything felt so  _ hot  _ -”

“Just trying to help your memory, you know? As hot as right now?” Hapi’s hands arc under her breasts. 

“Um,” Marianne stammers, trying to find her breath, “no. I - I feel so much hotter.” 

“Thought so.” Marianne can feel Hapi’s lips curving up against her neck. Her breath is humid and uncomfortable there, but somehow Marianne doesn’t want her to move away. She tweaks a nipple, which pearls up under her fingers. Marianne can only squeak in return.

“Hapi…”

“Did you blow him? He likes that.” 

Picturing Hapi on her knees for Balthus, taking him inside, puts warring emotions in Marianne’s mind: sheer acrid jealousy, and potent lust. “Have you done that to him too?” 

“Yeah,” Hapi says, stroking over her stomach. Her touch has gone light now, barely sensation at all. Marianne’s toes still curl so hard it nearly hurts. “That means our mouths have been in the same place. Kinda funny, right?”

“So funny,” Marianne says, even though she isn’t sure what actually is funny, but then Hapi’s turned her around a bit and is kissing her. Hapi’s tongue works Marianne’s lips open, then slides deep into Marianne’s mouth, deep and strong enough to claim, and now Marianne isn’t thinking much about Balthus at all. 

Marianne doesn’t know where to touch, and it’s too overwhelming to pick one spot anyway. Her fingers play over Hapi’s hair, her neck, her waist, her face, the sides of her breasts -

“That was a pretty good demonstration,” Hapi says, suddenly, breaking apart from the kiss. It brings Marianne back to reality very quickly. Right. Hapi has  _ no idea  _ this isn’t a  _ thing  _ friends do. Shame twists her gut, but Hapi’s hands return to thumb at her nipples, so the shame blooms into arousal. “Then he fucked you, huh?”

Marianne takes a quick intake of breath. “Yes.” 

“He’s huge, it’s great.” 

Hapi moves Marianne’s skirt up and her underwear down to around her knees. She pats around Marianne’s entrance again, like she had when she was checking the fit of the new smallclothes, but this time two fingers dip inside. They’re not nearly as deep as Hapi’s lone finger had been before, but Marianne still clenches around them.

_ No _ , she thinks, with an alarming force. It’s all so wrong. Hapi doesn’t know what she’s doing! And Marianne keeps letting her do it! Marianne is too - too - 

“So you liked having sex?” Hapi asks. Her words seem very loud in Marianne’s ear, and the question sends a deep shudder in response through her body. It only continues when Hapi finds her clit with her thumb, and starts circling it slowly. 

Pure delicious agony pours through Marianne. She can barely get the words out, just gasps, “Yes.” 

“Who knew you were such a whore,” Hapi says, and though there’s no malice in it the word feels like it’s stopped Marianne’s thoughts in their tracks. Yes, that is it. She’s barely experienced at all, and yet she’s too much of a  _ whore.  _ “You’re thinking about it now, you want it so bad, right?”

Hapi’s fingers finally inch higher inside Marianne, though she doesn’t move them after that. 

“Say it,” Hapi insists, and kisses Marianne’s neck. Bites it, hard enough that pain radiates out from where her teeth made an impact. Licks over the spot where she surely left a mark. 

“Yes,” is all Marianne can say. “I’m a whore. I - I need to fuck. I need it so bad. Please, please, please -”

“That’s my good girl,” Hapi says. Her fingers start pumping. Tears, mixed relief and frustration, pool at the corner of Marianne’s eyes. “I’ll give you what you need. I always do.”

Marianne does succeed in opening her mouth. She tries to say  _ stop _ . But all that comes out is a full-throated moan as Hapi crooks her fingers up and finds that so-yielding place inside her. 

So Marianne’s legs splay open wider. She sags back entirely against Hapi’s front. She was a maiden scant few days ago, and now she is completely undone by a few slim fingers touching her.

Those fingers stop pumping eventually, after several minutes of Marianne doing nothing but moaning like the whore she entirely is, and letting her body settle into every sensation Hapi puts into it. “Nooo,” she whines. Her dignity has fled. She doesn’t remotely mind.

“Fuck my hand,” Hapi tells her, fingers still, and Marianne rolls her hips to get her deeper. Oh, it works, it works too good, puts sparks through every nerve she has until she could sing with it. “This has gotta be easy-peasy,” Hapi soothes, “after Balthus. I bet you didn’t look half as good with his dick in you as you do now, though, Mari, right?” 

“N-no,” Marianne moans, “it’s all for you. I’ll never be as good for anyone but you!” 

Marianne couldn’t tell how much time passes with them together like this. It thrills her all the more that they’re connected through Hapi’s mouth sucking on her neck, her hands delving into her cunt. She’s become filthy with their joining, so easy and eager, as wet as when Balthus pumped her full of his release. 

“I’m gonna,” Marianne pants, the sounds in the room only her heavy breathing twining with Hapi’s and the wet noises of her fucking back against Hapi’s fingers, “I’m gonna come. You said don’t come, you said don’t come -”

“Mari, it’s okay.” Hapi’s voice is so calm, so controlled. The very sound of it makes Marianne’s walls clamp down hard on the digits inside them. “You can come with me. Only me, okay?” 

“Yes! Yes. Anything.” Marianne is babbling at this point. She’d been able to roll her hips to a steady rhythm before, but now they undulate frantically. 

Hapi spots a kiss where Marianne’s neck and shoulders meet. “Good girl, Mari,” she says, still thumbing her clit.

The praise is what does it. Marianne, finally, comes. The sheer pleasure of it, the kind that simmers and blazes all at once - it feels audacious in how this moment is even allowed to exist. How could she even contain this… much? There’s crest after crest of it, pumping in her heartbeat and between her legs at once. She moans  _ Hapi, Hapi  _ through it, and whines like a creature in pain when Hapi finally withdraws her fingers. 

“Huh. So. Sounds like you had a good time with Balthus, yeah?”

Marianne feels very lost. Her orgasm swept her out to sea and now she needs to paddle back to the conversation. She isn’t sure why Hapi is talking about Balthus, but it’s Hapi, and she always makes so much more sense than Marianne. “I did.” Her voice sounds very quiet, but blissful.

“I’ll bet.” Hapi’s hands slide down and grip her ass. Goddess, they are so wet at the fingertips, they leave glossy streaks across Marianne’s skin. “Since you’re such a whore, since you love to fuck, how’d you like me to find you some more boys so you can have some more good times?”

  
  
  


~~

  
  
  


It goes on like this every few days for the next couple of weeks. Hapi merely gestures at a man in the monastery, and it’s like Marianne’s seeing him through new eyes. She can’t stop seeing the width of his shoulders, the strength he carries throughout his whole body, the solidity of him in the front of his pants, now that Hapi’s pointed him out. 

The mere thought of him makes her almost unbearably aroused, enough that she has to shove her thighs together and press her palm between her legs over her clothes. It even happens in the middle of seminar - when she goes to seminar, anyway. Most days, she doesn’t. She spends most of her time in Abyss now, after all. Hapi’s just been such a good friend to her.

It’s so frustrating that she doesn’t even  _ think  _ to go after these men until Hapi suggests it. And then all she has to do is walk up to them, all her old shyness and depression simply gone. There’s no need for subtlety when her head is telling her how strongly she  _ needs  _ to get into their beds and let them use her body. It makes her feel the glow of a mission accomplished when she kisses them goodbye and leaves their rooms, to slip back into Hapi’s.

Sometimes she feels oddly unfulfilled, but Hapi’s really the best, because she’ll talk her through it. Always with her fingers inside her, and - oh, goodness - Marianne’s not really sure how  _ she  _ became such a good friend to deserve that, but she would never dare question it in case Hapi might stop.

Marianne’s stomach sloshes and she suddenly feels terrible about it. Hapi’s been living in something like the sewers, after all. She doesn’t know the light of the Goddess, barely believes except to curse her name. Marianne finds she minds that a lot less than she used to, she just understands Hapi so  _ deeply  _ now, but either way, taboos can’t exist down there. She might think this is just a normal thing friends do. After all, she’d had sex with Balthus, and they were merely friends. 

She has to let Hapi know that she’s been taking advantage. That what Marianne has been doing is wrong, wrong, wrong. She goes back to the chapel, her first time there in weeks, and prays to the Goddess for forgiveness, including that she went to the chapel to ask about Hapi at all. She’d never approve, surely. 

Marianne notices a few men around her - some she’s taken inside her, others not - eyeing her on her knees, poking their friends with their elbows when they see her, and she practically gleams with warmth. The chapel’s stone floor has no give under her bare knees, but it doesn’t hurt like she might expect. Hapi’s given her this feeling. She can’t let her down now, not at this most important of moments.

  
  
  


~~~~~~

  
  
  


Hapi’s face stays impassive as Marianne confesses. Every now and then she’ll cross her arms, or rebalance her weight on her feet. Once, she thinks she catches a smile worming its way into her cheek, but it’s gone so fast she was probably imagining it. She can be so silly.

“I’m really glad to hear that,” Hapi says, a few beats after Marianne was done flaying herself open. So to speak. “Because… you thinking about me all the time… that’s what I wanted too.”

“You did?” Marianne doesn’t dare hope. 

“Yeah, Mari.” And this time, when Hapi kisses her, she knows, oh she knows. No one is taking advantage here; they can meet in the middle, Marianne can give her whole life over to Hapi. It’s all Marianne can do not to stumble to her knees, flip Hapi’s skirt up, and feast on her then and there. “It’s so nice to have this kind of control. See it in action, so to speak, you know?”

“Of course.” Marianne is actually unsure of what Hapi’s talking about, but it seems like the right thing to say.

Hapi snorts and pats Marianne on the head. Even that motion puts a hitch in her breath. “At first, I kept telling myself if you didn’t make  _ me  _ come directly, it wasn’t taking advantage. That was stupid. How many times have these babies been inside you?” Hapi wiggles her fingers. “You fucked a dozen guys because I told you to, and you didn’t even get to get off until it was with me. I knew what I was doing. And it worked out pretty great.”

“What?” Hapi may as well be speaking Almyran. Dagdan, perhaps, something from even farther-off lands. Marianne recognizes the words as sounds, but she can make no use of figuring them out. She doesn’t… understand… 

Hapi snorts. “Oh, don’t worry about it.” So Marianne doesn’t, she just follows Hapi to the bed. “Just help me get my clothes off so you can get  _ me  _ off.” That, she can do easily. 

If not for the many distractions along the way. As ever, simply seeing Hapi without the scarf draped across her cleavage makes Marianne all shivery and lustful, and she finally gets to nuzzle her face in between Hapi’s breasts. She’s so soft and smooth there. 

“In your  _ mouth _ ,” Hapi guides, undoing the halter at the back of her neck. She lets it fall down and - oh, Goddess, she is beautiful. Marianne’s jaw drops a little, in awe, but she hardly has time to react before Hapi has slammed her back down into the bed and crawled on top of her. Her skin is blazing hot, and it feels incredible to be completely surrounded. Pinned down into Hapi’s bed, where she belongs. 

She thought it was good with Balthus, with the other men, but it has nothing on being here with Hapi, the subject of her - obsession? She hates to think of it like that, but there is no other word for the way Hapi floated through nearly every thought she’s had these past few weeks.

Her love, truly. There’s nothing else it could be.

Marianne opens her eager mouth and sucks on Hapi’s nipple. She makes absurd wet noises as she does so, ungracious and gurgling, but they’re perfect to her ears. Hapi has taken all the shame out of her and thrown it in a trash bin like so many sweets wrappers.

“Thaaaat’s it,” Hapi moans, her hips bouncing. Their bodies line up almost everywhere, just like in their kisses, and when Hapi bounces against her -  _ oh _ . She’s just as warm and wet as Marianne herself, even through her underclothes. “Get the other one,” she demands, and moves so Marianne can fit her lips around her other breast. “Fuck yes, you feel so good Mari. Can’t wait until that tongue’s on my clit. Gonna come all over this pretty face.” 

Marianne may catch flame. Hapi’s fingertips push into Marianne’s cheekbones, massaging her own breasts while Marianne sucks. Marianne goes practically delirious, so grateful for Hapi physically moving her body however she’d like because she’s too lost in her arousal. 

“This is really good and all,” Hapi says after a while, gasping even through it, “but get your mouth on my pussy.  _ Now _ .” 

Marianne can hardly believe the words that come out of Hapi’s mouth. How can anything sound so incredible? She’s blushing so hard and throbbing even harder. Of course, she has no choice but to obey. She tears Hapi’s underclothes away in her enthusiasm and  _ breathes  _ her in.

Marianne  _ gets  _ to use her fingers to touch her, to spread her open. Hapi’s flushing so gorgeously there, oh right there, right where Marianne’s fingers dip inside her and come away shiny. Marianne all but shoves those fingers into her mouth.

“Do you even know?” Hapi says with a throaty laugh. “Are you, like… are you there screaming in your head? Or is there nothing going on, you just totally think you’re into it?”

Marianne lifts her head. “What?” she asks, her eyes blinking wide. She would like to return to what she was doing, so she could taste Hapi properly.

Hapi grins with all her teeth and grabs Marianne’s hair hard. Marianne can’t help the moan that escapes from her throat when Hapi tugs. It makes her so  _ warm  _ when Hapi  _ controls  _ her like this; she wants anything Hapi wants to do with her. “Second bit, then. Hey, works for me. Get back to it, slut,” she says, using her heel to thud against Marianne’s back just once.

Marianne had tried to be patient. But Hapi had tasted so tart on her fingers, and as much as seeing Hapi’s pussy shiver wherever her fingers had gone was so truly incredible, it wasn’t nearly enough to fill her hunger. Marianne dots a kiss on Hapi’s squishy thighs once each, then puts her mouth between Hapi’s legs.

She doesn’t think to start slow, even though she’s completely inexperienced at this. She laps the full length of Hapi’s cunt with the flat of her tongue; Hapi’s slick, blushing red, delectable. Hapi’s legs are already trembling on either side of Marianne’s face, and it only inspires Marianne all the more.

Marianne learns quickly. She learns Hapi’s incredible taste, how to fuck her tongue up and inside every secret nook and swipe it there where she’s strongest. She learns the feel of Hapi’s sweet, plump nub on her tongue. She learns the sounds Hapi makes when she comes, those guttural moans, and the pain of having her face squeezed between Hapi’s thighs.

Pain? It hardly seems to matter, when this is a moment of so much pleasure. Marianne lifts her head. 

“Ugh, get back to it! Again!” Hapi moans. Marianne would like to keep her head up, because Hapi’s ruddy face and swaying breasts and jiggling belly are such a beautiful sight. But she must do what Hapi tells her, she simply must. It feels so good to obey, as good as Hapi must feel right now.

Marianne laps at her clit and lets Hapi’s taste flood her mouth. Hapi moans again, that heel of hers kicking off Marianne’s side over and over again. So, perhaps not as good as Hapi feels right now. But that’s more than okay. 

Marianne reaches her hands up, only so they can massage and squeeze Hapi’s breasts. She loves this, how every part of her body is being used for sex, for the erotic, for  _ fucking _ . Her arms and legs stretch her forward to bring pleasure to Hapi, her face and mouth and lips belong between her legs; her breasts, her own cunt, they rub desperately against the bedsheets, rolling sensation into her that she licks back into Hapi.

Hapi comes again. And again. Marianne keeps going, all but drowning in her every howl. Every yank on her hair, every snapped-out _slut_ , Marianne pulses around the shape of it. Her face needs a good wipe, Hapi’s fluids and her own saliva smeared all over it, but she finds she doesn’t care when she lifts her head to pant, “Ah - Goddess -”

“No, Mari,” Hapi growls, though her voice sounds as wrecked as Marianne feels. “Did the  _ Goddess  _ do this?”

“No.”

“Did - did your  _ Goddess  _ put your fingers in you until you screamed?”

“No. No, of course not!” 

“Who did, Mari? Who?”

“ _ You _ , Hapi,” Marianne yelps, and because she doesn’t want to waste a second she’s sucking Hapi’s clit again. Her taste is so strong there, and she responds so gorgeously. 

But Hapi’s not done. She never is, with her incredible mind. “ _ Fuck  _ the Goddess, Mari. Say it. I want to hear you say it.”

“ _ Fuck the Goddess _ ,” Marianne exhales, right into Hapi’s pussy. 

“That’s right.” Hapi’s fingernails scratch her scalp, causing acute pain and shivery pleasure alike. “You’re gonna worship only me.”

Marianne isn’t sure if it was so much as two months ago when she would have spent hours in the church begging for forgiveness at any mere thought she believed the Goddess would have disapproved of. She had been so foolish. She had believed in something neither real nor true in her search for somewhere to belong.

When Hapi grinds against her mouth, when she tells her precisely what to do, it sinks into Marianne down to her bones. Her blood sings with it.

It took her so long, and it took so much pain. But she found somewhere she belonged - no. She found someone to belong  _ to _ . 

Marianne rolls an open-mouth, filthy kiss against Hapi’s entire cunt; she’s so joyous, to be here, to be known and well-loved and ordered, to worship at the church she’s chosen.

  
  
  


~~~

  
  
  


Hapi tells Marianne that her perfect day is eating, sleeping, lazing around, and fucking, and that’s exactly what they do the next few weeks. She’s always incredibly sensible; Marianne doesn’t know why anyone does anything else. 

Hapi teaches her new, delectable things. Bolganone teasing against the skin, not enough to singe but enough to make her boil all over. How Thoron feels directly against the clit. Magical restraints, ones that either let her move just enough to be frustrating and wonderful at once or ones that don’t let her move at all, each thrilling in its own way. The sting of a palm against her ass, and the red handprints it leaves against her paleness. Squat plugs Hapi slips inside her and she wears all day. Strange wiggling contraptions that let them both penetrate each other at the same time. The sensation of a boot slipping  _ inside  _ her, that one time Hapi made her lie on the floor of their room and simply  _ take  _ it.

“Let’s go on a little picnic,” Hapi says one day. There’s a beautiful mischievousness in her eyes. Of course, Marianne agrees, and after Hapi reminds her that people wear clothing in public - Marianne has not been doing much of that lately - they are off, arms linked together at the elbows.

It’s a gorgeous day. Birds fly overhead, singing, as if they knew Marianne would leave Abyss today and wanted to greet her. Wyverns and pegasi circle each other in the skies above the monastery. The sun warms the land, though the day isn’t too hot, and the sky is a perfect shade of blue with scattered puffy clouds.

Hapi takes them out to a field quite a length away from Garreg Mach. The grass here is so green, and Hapi interrupts it nicely with a picnic blanket that matches her hair. And Marianne’s smallclothes, she thinks with a flush. The trees surrounding the meadow stretch up high, like they yearn for the sky above. Their leafy green canopies carry the perfect days of early summer.

“You are super lucky,” Hapi tells Marianne at one point, once Marianne’s shrugged her shirt off and laid her head on Hapi’s lap. Marianne doesn’t need any more confirmation than them here, together, but Hapi keeps talking. “That woman - ugh. I didn’t see the sun for _years_. You get days like this.” She pulls on her nipple with a grin. “I never got to come. I’d scream and scream and _scream_ , I’d do anything for her, and she wouldn’t let me. You get lots of orgasms. Seems pretty sweet to me.”

There’s a grit to her voice. A tight fury. It doesn’t match this beautiful day, and it isn’t what Marianne wants to hear at all out of Hapi. “What -”

Hapi laughs and the anger is gone. Marianne wonders if she imagined it; things with Hapi often seem too good to be true, after all. “Don’t worry,” she says, sliding down to put her mouth on Marianne’s breasts. Marianne arches up, so eager for her always. “Just this, right? All you care about is this.”

“Yes,” Marianne sighs. Her toes dig into the grass. It’s as soft and yielding as Hapi’s body, and she knows she’s going slick already. 

One thing about Hapi is she’s incredibly impatient. She never spends much time on Marianne’s breasts, or kissing Marianne, because she loves to get to her cunt. But today, maybe because of the sun, it’s put her in an indulgent mood. She spends ages licking and biting Marianne’s nipples, running the tip of her tongue along the curves of her breasts. Marianne starts to wonder if she could come just from this.

“There you go,” Hapi says, kissing her nipples and sweeping fingers over her stomach. “So sweet for me like this. I could be so  _ mean _ , you have no idea. But I treat you so good, Mari.” 

Every word is so difficult to get out when she’s this aroused. “Treat me so good,” Marianne breathes.

“You treat me good too, you know, Mari.”

“Mmm…” It’s the best compliment Marianne’s ever gotten.

“You really wanna treat me good? Make me come so hard?” One finger dips into Marianne’s hole, swirls once, and withdraws. Marianne’s hips kick up and chase Hapi’s hand, but it doesn’t return.

“Yes,” is all Marianne can say. She’s been reduced to single syllables by the warmth of the sun, Hapi’s body, her own lust.

“I know your secret,” Hapi says, off-hand. Her voice is almost muffled by Marianne’s skin. She traces her pointer fingertip around Marianne’s jawline. “It’s why we’ve been able to have so much fun.”

Part of Marianne wants to be offended at how  _ casual  _ Hapi sounds, as ever. That - that secret - she carried it so close to herself that it became a second heartbeat. She told no one. And yet she hasn’t thought about it in weeks. Months even, perhaps. The shame of it was wiped clean from her mind.

She remembers how she’d felt Hapi’s claim on her in her very blood. Her blood that no longer seems like a curse, but the greatest blessing she’s ever received. 

Hapi looms up over her, peeling her clothes off. “I wanna see all of you,” she says, and kisses her. Marianne finds herself leaning in toward her tongue as she pulls away, a thread of saliva connecting them until it breaks. “I want to feel all of you. Let’s do it, beautiful.” 

Marianne hates to move away from Hapi, but she does it. She does it so she can close her eyes and summon what she knows is inside her, drawing it up from her very blood.

The monster inside her bursts out. Her body expands to enormous dimensions, her arms and legs like the tree trunks surrounding the field. Her face stretches out and twists into something inhuman, reptilian and ancient and unknowable. She opens her mouth to bare her knife teeth, sharp as the claws on her four feet. Her tail whips through the air as the sun gleams off her scales.

It seems like it should hurt. It only swarms her with excitement.

She remembers the first time Hapi made her come. How she wondered how her small, thin body could contain so much inside her. Taking account of her new form, staring down at Hapi below her, she recognizes the same sensation.

“You look amazing,” Hapi says, leaning up and kissing her snout. Marianne can only snort, and whip out her tongue to lick back. The swipe of it covers Hapi’s entire face. She even tastes different when Marianne’s in this body; every molecule of sweat on her skin is biting, but in a pleasant way, one that reminds Marianne how much of an effect Hapi has on her even like this. “Sex time, yeah?” She leans back on the blanket and opens her legs wide.

Marianne sniffs around Hapi’s entrance. Her scent is so much stronger than she’s used to, deep and salty, and the sharpness of it makes Marianne huff out a breath.

“Ooh,” Hapi murmurs, very tiny beneath her. Her hips kick up. “That’s strong. C’mon, put that tongue into it.” 

Marianne, of course, ducks her head and laps around her entrance. It’s very different from doing this in her human body; one lick covers Hapi from the dimples on her lower back to her bellybutton. “Fuck! Rough,” Hapi moans, then waves her arms around when Marianne lifts her snout. The barely-controlled flail of her hands puts a fission of pride inside Marianne’s now-massive body. “No, no, it’s good that way. Keep going.” 

Marianne has not  _ gotten used  _ to going down on Hapi, she will never get used to something so amazing every time, but it’s certainly very familiar to her now. She knows how to go fast to push Hapi right over the edge, and how to go slow until Hapi’s yanking her hair and calling her all sorts of wonderful epithets. She knows her every taste, her curves and ridges and bumps. 

But this is entirely different. She traces new topography with her tongue. It’s much more difficult to suck on her clit, but the small bump pulses hard against her. In her mouth, Hapi grows warmer, her tang stronger. Marianne fights the urge to  _ devour  _ even as her tongue plunges into Hapi at last, leaving her wailing. Hapi comes not long after that, her cunt clenching down on Marianne’s tongue and bucking wildly against her face. It would’ve hurt before, but Marianne can take it now. She’s so happy to take it now.

“Fuck,” Hapi chuckles, once the orgasm’s subsided. “That was - wow. I’m not speechless often, but.” She sits up and taps Marianne’s scaly hip. “Your turn to have some fun. I wanna see it.”

Marianne’s cock slides out of its sheath. She snorts unpleasantly; it’s so sensitive after being tucked away inside her body that she almost came the moment it was exposed to the air. Her claws bite down into the ground to keep her centered.

“Oh,” Hapi says. The light in her eyes is positively  _ dancing _ . “ _ Big  _ girl. C’mere.” 

Hapi’s palms splay out to fit over Marianne’s dick. She could only maybe touch fingertips if she wrapped both hands around her. Marianne is so…  _ huge _ . She’s strong, she’s powerful like this. She doesn’t know why she denied it for so long when it feels so  _ good _ . She lets out a roar of pride and orgasm rips through her, splattering it all over Hapi’s face and the top half of her body. 

“Okay,” Hapi says with a heaving laugh. She doesn’t bother to wipe the come off her. Marianne realizes with a start that she has compound eyes now, like an insect’s, when those eyes show her dozens of visions of Hapi’s breasts swaying with her movements. She could take them both in her mouth now, easily. 

“ _ Uhhh _ ,” is all she gets out as she comes again. It sprays all over Hapi’s body, and she offers up a gleeful shock of laughter in return.

“This is so good for my ego,” she breathes, lying back on the ground. “C’mon, let’s do whatever you were just thinking about.” Marianne trudges over - she only wishes this body was faster! - and fits her mouth around both tits. “Oh, fuck!” 

Seeing Hapi’s face like this repeated a dozen times, her nose scrunched up in sheer pleasure and her mouth flopping open to gasp for air, sets Marianne off again. Her cock slips through the release slicking Hapi’s stomach and she has to suck on her breasts hard to stop herself from coming again. 

Marianne remembers how she’d felt small and helpless when she was with Balthus, but it had made her realize that her smallness, her helplessness, wasn’t a bad thing. On the contrary, it just made her more exhilarated and sensation-drunk. She hopes she’s giving a mere portion of that wrenching pleasure to Hapi. 

“This feels so good,” Hapi groans, “you’re amazing. Best decision of my life. But I want that big monster dick in me.” She reaches down to hitch both her legs up, leaving her cunt completely exposed. If Marianne could, she would blush. Instead, she squares her shoulders forward, and moves to get inside Hapi. 

She inches inside at first, carefully. She manages to push a scant few centimeters into Hapi’s entrance. Hapi’s head tips back and she outright yells, loud enough that Marianne worries someone at the monastery might hear her. But it’s a fleeting thought, because Hapi feels incredible, impossibly tight even with just the head of Marianne’s cock inside her. 

“Harder,” Hapi whines. Marianne takes in the arch of her hips dozens, a hundred times; the wideness of them, the curve and the swell there so lovely to look at, but also slippery with sweat and monster drool and come. It’s glorious. 

Marianne shoves forward.  _ I can take it I can take it _ , Hapi’s rambling now, and Marianne always listens to her, so she lets her do just that. She pushes inside until Hapi’s softest flesh starts rubbing against her stiffest scales. 

Every time Marianne licks Hapi to climax, she considers it a privilege beyond any other. This, though, this is like if her tongue could take every one of Hapi’s orgasmic frissons and echo them within her own body. She finds herself flooding over again, roaring as loud as the pleasure that rips through her. Everything is just so much  _ stronger  _ in this body. 

Hapi’s gone slick inside now with her arousal and the wet ropes of Marianne’s come. It still proves difficult to actually move inside her, with Marianne so enormous and girthy and Hapi vise-tight even with her legs fully splayed out. Marianne fucking her is more of a dragged-out roll than thrusting.

“I didn’t know I could get this wet,” Hapi sobs, even if the words take her a long while to get out between her juddered breaths. “I’m so _full_. This was so… fuck, it was so worth it…”

Her voice sounds so sweet. Marianne doesn’t know how tall this body is, precisely, but she feels like she’s stretching up a thousand feet. There’s so much power coiled in her limbs, force she has to hold back in her hips. 

And yet Hapi completely controls her. She’d do whatever she asked. The force she’s holding back threatens to spill over like yet one more orgasm.

As if she could read Marianne’s mind and sensed an opening, Hapi growls. “Do it, Mari, do it. You’re a monster girl. Monster girl like me. We’re two monsters, let’s fuck like it. Give in. I’ll  _ make  _ you if you don’t. Let me feel all of you.” 

It feels so good to surrender. 

Marianne’s claws rip up the earth beneath her as she rams full-bore into Hapi. Distantly, in the part of her mind not concerned with primal instincts and giving her mate all the indulgence she could want, she’s unsure how she’s even able to physically do this. But it’s a pointless question, because she  _ can _ , and oh, she  _ does _ . 

Hapi is blazing, around and below her. Her flush pinks all the most beautiful parts of her, lips and nipples and pussy. Like this, though, entirely surrendered too, all of her has never been more beautiful. She’s howling, screaming. Making noises that are as deep and guttural as the ones flowing from Marianne’s mouth too. Her insides clench so  _ hard  _ around every sound, and the two of them fill the field with their coupling in every way possible. 

Even completely lost in sex, Marianne treasures every detail. The sensation of Hapi’s folds parting for her, over and over again. The sloppy squelching every time she slaps into Hapi, that nasty sound gorgeous to her ears. Hapi’s face, twisted in ecstasy and loose simultaneously. A bizarre sensation that has her hips stuck in perpetual motion, fucking Hapi to a pace that is both frantic and completely measured. 

She should be thinking  _ mine mine mine _ . Instead, it’s  _ hers hers hers _ , true as a heartbeat, as the timing of her hips. 

And of course, every single orgasm, the way the pleasure builds until it has nowhere to go and pours out of her cock. Into Hapi. It joins them so gorgeously. This is what Marianne was meant to do, she knows it. Looking at it from the outside, some might say Hapi brought Marianne down - literally, even into Abyss - but Marianne looks to this as liberation. She’s so strong now. Even if Hapi hadn’t told her that, all she’d need to do is see herself like this. 

What may be hours pass by. Marianne finds herself stumbling away from Hapi’s body eventually. She remembers all those times Hapi had her fuck men, and she felt so  _ used _ , in the best way. Now she just feels  _ used up _ . It’s not  _ bad _ , it is  _ good _ , but - 

She collapses onto the grass.

After a few beats, Marianne opens her eyes - her human, non-segmented eyes - and breathes in. Only when she breathes out, the breath catches on something in her throat, and she heaves. Nothing comes out, but big fat salty tears roll down her cheeks. She collapses to her knees; the dirt scuffs them, but she finds she can’t care. 

She can’t stop crying, either.

Her thighs - flesh, scales no longer - are slippery with release and the ebullient thrumming that accompanies an orgasm slings through her body. It doesn’t matter. She sobs anyway.

Hapi’s lying supine on the grass. Even through Marianne’s tears, she can see Hapi’s breasts and belly jiggling with every breath. Good, that’s good. She’s breathing. She’s so overwhelmed with the orgasms Marianne gave her that she’s become a quivering lump on the grass. Marianne should be completely consumed by pride.

Instead, this. 

She sobs so hard it hurts her chest. Back before the war, she used to lock herself in her room and cry, but it was never like this. There’s such a rawness to her tears. She isn’t even sad! She misses herself of a scant five minutes ago, the monster self that could claw her chest open and tear this right out of her.

“Oh, shit,” Hapi says, incredibly dazed. “Mari - fuck. C’mon. No, shit, not like this -” 

She reaches out her hand. Marianne grabs on. 

“What is it?” Why does Hapi’s voice sound so panicked? Marianne would give anything to never hear that tone from her again.

“I - I don’t know, I just - I started crying, and -”

“So it’s nothing.” Hapi sits up. Her voice is the same as ever, with the mischievous lilt Marianne loves. Marianne wonders if she imagined the panic. Perhaps her thoughts - overloaded somehow, with all the sensations she put her body through. “You’re fine.”

“I’m fine,” Marianne says, and her exhales are thankfully normal again. 

“Good, that’s good.” Hapi’s small smile makes Marianne remember - it’s a beautiful day, and she just fucked her amazing girlfriend, who she can trust with anything, who changed her entire life for the amazing, into absolute incoherence. Hapi’s still wobbly and smeared in come, and she may have done terribly in class when they worked on commanding battalions, but right now, there is such a strength to her. “You got me. That’s all you need.”

Marianne  _ is  _ good. The tears dry up. That fleeting thought about the monster part of her clawing anything out, how ridiculous. If Hapi thinks she’s perfect the way she is, it’s the truth. She looks forward to proving it many times, whenever Hapi asks. Whatever Hapi asks of her.

“I got you,” Marianne repeats. “That’s all I need.”


End file.
